


Amitié

by Studentxdreams1



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Protectiveness, Stalking, Will Finds Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Studentxdreams1/pseuds/Studentxdreams1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Franklyn had always known he’d be a good friend to Doctor Lecter. Now, thanks to Will Graham, he has a way to prove it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amitié

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fictionalfaerie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalfaerie/gifts).



> I don’t know too much about the books so I didn’t want to try and look like I did and then get it horribly wrong, so I chose one of your many prompts that was more TV series specific. I hope you enjoy!

It was common practice for Hannibal to have fifteen minutes between patients in order to consolidate his notes. He, honestly, charged enough per hour that he had no need to cram the banal appointments in one after the other in order to have a profitable psychiatric practice.  
  
Only by coincidence, and Will’s ever growing dependence on the European doctor, did Franklyn and the FBI consultant ever meet.  
  
Franklin was a man who had numerous neuroses but provoked very little of Hannibal’s highly prized interest. It was only the man’s obsessive nature that kept him in Hannibal’s ledger; his unvaried trust that would, perhaps, make him useful one day.  
  
“He makes me very uncomfortable.” Franklyn had said the session after the brief waiting-room encounter. “There’s something not right about him.”  
  
Hannibal had kept himself impassive. It would useful to know how Franklyn perceived Will, someone he had only just met, rather than the familiar and monotonous talks about those his patient’s everyday life.  
  
“What makes you think that about Mr. Graham?” The formality of the surname rolled smoothly off his tongue, but fell oddly on his ears. It was curious that in the matter of Will Graham, the degree of his usual politesse had become inappropriate.  
  
“He seemed edgy and... dangerous.”  
  
Franklyn didn’t know the half of what Will could do, nor of who he had the potential to be. He was reacting on a natural defence towards those who seemed different and not able to recognize the extraordinary in the other man.  
  
“You felt threatened by him.”  
  
“No... Well,” Franklyn sighed, “Yes, but I was more worried about you than myself.”  
  
Hannibal cocked his head slightly, basking in a moment of private amusement. “Me?”  
  
“Is it safe for you to see someone like that?” The words were higher pitched than Franklyn’s usual timbre. Rushed and clearly feeling a pressure behind them that caused a change in way of thinking. It was clearly an expression of paranoid concern, one which Hannibal didn’t appreciate.  
  
“It is perfectly safe. I would not take on a patient I felt could harm me in any way.”  
  
Franklyn stalled for a moment, running his hands his face as he clearly tried to push the subject aside.  
  
Hannibal would not have accepted any disparaging comments towards Will, particularly by a man too simple to comprehend the profiler’s magnificence. He was glad that Franklyn had the courtesy to let the subject lie before he protested to the extent he clearly desired.  
  
Perhaps it had been the evidence of other patients that had brought out the possessiveness in the man opposite him. If he were anyone else, he might take some time to reassure Franklyn, try to return some power to him, but he decided to remain quiet.  
  
He much preferred to leave Franklyn wanting, to allow the rotund man to hang himself with his insecurities.  
  
It was the little amusements, Hannibal entertained, that kept him going throughout the day.  
  
“I know.” Franklyn breathed, “You know your patients better than anyone. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted your judgement. You can forgive me for that, can’t you?”  
  
“Of course, Franklyn. There is nothing to be sorry for.” he responded, his mind already drifting to the possibilities of Will now that Franklyn had settled back into his usual, tedious focus.  
  
Hannibal knew that, had Franklyn known all there was to Hannibal, he would be feeling something very different. Perhaps he would assume that he was the threat to Will, and the more dangerous one on the pair.  
  
The psychiatrist, however, knew better. Will would be very much a threat to him, but he was willing to risk it, to place trust in Will beyond what Franklyn could imagine.  
  
If Hannibal had been anyone else he might have been nervous, or hesitant.  
  
Yet, he was Hannibal, Will was Will, and for a reason inexplicable to the doctor he felt that everything was assuredly going to come through in his favour.  
  


* * *

  
  
Franklin didn’t like doubting Doctor Lecter, but he was very worried. A man as strong and elegant as the doctor shouldn’t need protecting from the kind of blue-collar, unkempt outcast such as Graham, but the two of them in the same room puzzled the neurotic man.  
  
Doctor Lecter taking on Graham as a patient would have been strange to Franklyn if he hadn’t known the European as well as he did. It was clear that the psychiatrist was a tolerant and caring man, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken on someone who was as much of a mess as Franklyn.  
  
As well as someone who, clearly, surpassed him in that manner.  
  
The stout man knew that he was not the most balanced person, but had felt a connection to his new psychiatrist that he hadn’t felt with the previous eight. He suspected Doctor Lecter would do anything to protect and help Franklyn, and thus Franklyn felt as if he should reciprocate.  
  
Waiting outside the psychiatrist’s office for another patient was probably crossing some sort of line; Franklyn was not so deluded that he couldn’t recognize that fact.  
  
However, the bubbling concern regarding Graham had been consuming his life since the incident.  
  
Sitting with his car engine off, Franklin tried to wrestle the steering-wheel into a level position to burn off the anxious energy. He heard the stones crunch under the wheels as they tried to turn against their stationary position, and he checked all of his mirrors for an uncountable time to ensure no one had noticed his presence.  
  
Doctor Lecter’s last session was supposed to end at 8:30pm, yet when he looked at the clock it was twenty-three past nine and Graham still hadn’t emerged from the offices. The light was on, and the cars of both men still parked aside.  
  
Just as Franklyn was contemplating whether he could swallow his loyal protectiveness for the night, the doors to Hannibal’s offices flung open and Graham poured out.  
  
His curls bounced as he ran to his car, but tripped as he approached and disappeared behind the metal body of his vehicle.  
  
Franklyn startled, and, although he knew he could potentially be approaching a dangerous psychopath, flung his car door open so he could jump out and help.  
  
He worried that perhaps Graham had done something to Doctor Lecter and was attempting to flee the scene and although he was not very strong Franklyn had more weight to throw around than Graham. He was confident that he could restrain or talk the man down before he attacked.  
  
As he placed one foot on the ground outside his car, he halted with the sight of the building door opening at a much more sedate pace with the appearance of an unharmed Doctor Lecter.  
  
Franklyn withdrew and took stock of what was happening now that he had access to the street and could vaguely hear what was happening on the opposite side of the asphalt  
  
The most prominent noise was that of vomiting. Franklyn winced at the sound, suddenly profoundly relieved that he hadn’t made the move to approach the man he couldn’t see behind the car. Doctor Lecter stood a ways off and appeared to be merely watching Graham.  
  
Franklyn marvelled at the doctor’s caring patience and noticed that the lights inside the building had been turned off. It seemed that he had taken the time to close-up before emerging.  
  
It wasn’t until Graham resurfaced above the hood of the car did Doctor Lecter attempt to approach, but the disturbing man skittered away and opened the vehicle’s passenger door as a shield between them.  
  
Doctor Lecter spoke too softly and cultured to be heard from Franklyn’s position, but Graham’s voice was hysterical enough to carry to Franklyn. He was insisting very resolutely that the doctor was not allowed to come any closer to him, touch him, and that he didn’t have the right to talk to him.  
  
Franklyn frowned. He couldn’t imagine the doctor doing anything that would warrant such treatment. It was clear that there was more wrong with Graham than Franklyn had first thought; delusional, paranoid and maybe prone to psychotic episodes.  
  
He had been to enough psychiatrists and read enough online to know all the possible diagnoses.  
  
It seemed that Doctor Lecter was more than happy to comply with Graham’s wishes, as he ceased moving forward while the scruffy man circled around his car, walking backwards to keep his eyes on the still form.  
  
Franklyn wondered, for a moment, whether he should drive after Graham or the doctor in case the clearly damaged and emotionally unstable patient decided to come back.  
  
He decided he would look after Doctor Lecter and keep moving behind the classic car as it pulled out from its position at the side of the building.  
  
Franklyn knew he would follow his psychiatrist and would-be friend wherever he would go that night.  
  


* * *

  
  
When Franklyn didn’t know what to do, he went to Tobias. It was an old habit; one that he knew was indicative of a highly dependent relationship, especially as there was never any reciprocation on Tobias’s part.  
  
He knocked rapidly on the door of his friend’s apartment, not caring too much for politeness. He felt rather frantic after what he had just seen and he thought that once Tobias knew why he was there, he could be forgiven for the sudden intrusion.  
  
It took a few more moments than usual for Tobias to open the door. Franklyn tried not to feel too deep a rejection about it; the hour was late and not everyone jumped at the prospect of company.  
  
Eventually the door opened and the musician emerged. He wore an exasperated expression that said he knew exactly who was knocking at his door even before he answered it.  
  
No words were spoken as Tobias simply stood aside and let Franklyn in, which warmed the shorter man with the knowledge that his best friend was so comfortable that pleasant exchanges were no longer necessary. He felt the fear abate in a calm moment of familiarity.  
  
“Franklyn,” Tobias started, his voice unenthused and tired, “what bring you to my door _now_.”  
  
He collapsed into an armchair without invitation. “I know it’s late, but I couldn’t go home; not after what I’ve just seen.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, clearly familiar with the Franklyn’s hyperbole, Tobias drifted into the kitchen. “I assume that’s the reason you have come to my door.”  
  
Franklyn nodded, even though the other man was out of sight. “I was only trying to be helpful,” he could feel the paranoia rising with the pitch of his voice. “I didn’t mean to see anything, I swear it.”  
  
“Franklyn.” Tobias spoke briskly as he reappeared with two cup and saucers in a plain pattern. “There’s no need to go on, just tell me what you saw.”  
  
“I was following Doctor Lecter in my car,” he looked apologetically up at Tobias as he was handed the tea. He knew the musician hated him talking about his psychiatrist. “I was worried, he has this unstable patient and I thought he might have been in danger. It was an honest mistake, with good intentio-”  
  
“Franklyn!”  
  
He jumped and held up his hands. He knew how he could be when he got like this, and was very thankful for Tobias’s cool head. “I’m sorry. I followed him out into a less populated area, definitely not somewhere I would suspect him to know of, and he came to a stop at a bus yard...”  
  
Franklyn trailed off, staring at his hands that had become clasped so tightly that they were vibrating and lacking in their usual colour. He didn’t want to believe anything bad about the doctor he had placed so much personal trust in.  
  
“H-He killed a man. He just,” he made a shaky motion in the air, drawing a knife across an invisible neck, “Like that, and the guy collapsed, and, it happened so fast. The man was opened and then there were _Tupperware containers_ and he didn’t get any blood on him at all!” he realized that he was laughing in a slightly hysterical manner, “there was so much blood everywhere, but his suit stayed clean for the entire thing. How is that possible?”  
  
Looking over at Tobias, Franklyn noticed that he was now sitting quietly, leaning forward in his still upright position. He looked uninterested and undisturbed by what the other man was saying.  
  
“Are you even listening to me?”  
  
“I am.”  
  
“Then how are you just sitting there? He murdered a man! It was so quick and professional.” He ran his hands over his face, “I don’t understand.”  
  
“What is there to not understand?” The soft tones filtered through the room, “It’s clear that Doctor Lecter has killed a man, and most likely has before if he is as practiced as you say.”  
  
“No.’ Franklyn looked up sharply. “He can’t have. He’s so... well put together; such sophisticated and a decent man, he can’t possibly...”  
  
Tobias shook his head and looked disappointedly at Franklyn, who, in a practiced move, almost apologized for his reaction and paranoia.  
  
“You couldn’t understand.”  
  
He frowned, a little defensive that his friend presumed that he could know more about Doctor Lecter than he did. “And you would?”  
  
“More so than you, I’m sure.” He leant back slightly in his chair, looking down his nose at Franklyn but seeming to talk to himself. “There was something about him when we met at the opera. He had a familiar kind of darkness then, I just didn’t recognize it immediately. Yet, it makes sense.”  
  
Franklyn swallowed. It was clear now that Tobias had forgot he wasn’t alone in the room, as there was something distant and dark in the other’s eyes. He didn’t want to distract Tobias by speaking, and maybe draw out the anger that was occasionally unleashed onto the smaller man, but he found his mouth moving before he could temper it.  
  
“Tobias, what do you mean by ‘familiar’ darkness?”  
  
Deep eyes locked onto his. “You could never understand.” He repeated, “You have never... Imagined what it would be like. To splay a person open and create something from their flesh.” Something twisted the corner of his mouth, “I have often fantasized about cutting someone’s throat out and playing like a violin; the technicalities behind it and the _sound_. Music is a living creature in itself, how could it not be more beautiful when born from human life?”  
  
Franklyn opened his mouth.  
  
Tobias had always been a fairly clinical person, a quality that Franklyn had envied and taken advantage of as a foil for his neuroticism. Hearing him talk so passionately about something was almost as disturbing as the content of his speech.  
  
It was, in a way, almost hypnotic.  
  
“You’ve thought about this a lot.”  
  
Tobias blinked, as if only just realizing what he was saying and quickly corrected himself. “I have, but it is a mere fantasy,” he looked down at his tea, “nothing more.”  
  
Franklyn nodded and believed him.  
  
Tobias was his friend and had no reason to lie.  
  
He wondered, perhaps, if Graham had also found out about Doctor Lecter and that was what had caused him to react so violently. It would be reasonable, but hard to determine without knowing Graham.  
  
Worry start to creep up and he jiggled his foot nervously as Tobias stood and cleared away Franklyn’s untouched teacup as if nothing had happened or changed in their relationship.  
  
If Graham really was unstable then there was the possibility that he could turn Doctor Lecter in before Franklyn got the chance to talk to the psychiatrist.  
  
He glanced up at Tobias and made a promise that he would help his friend vent his fantasies more often, so they wouldn’t build up and cause him to act on them.  
  
And he would be there for Doctor Lecter, too, though for different reasons.  
 

* * *

  
  
It didn’t take much to track Graham down. There was enough information about him on the internet to lead Franklyn to a crime scene that the FBI was investigating. If the blog he had read held any truth, Graham would be there amongst the many agents assessing the latest in a long line of killings.  
  
They weren’t at a bus yard, for which Franklyn was grateful.  
  
Graham was easy to pick out from the others; even from the distance they had set the police tape.  
  
It was the fluffy hair.  
  
Franklyn wanted to try and keep his decorum, even though he was shaking with anxious jealously. The more he had thought about Graham and Doctor Lecter’s relationship the more he had felt something pressing inside him, urging him to make a move.  
  
He didn’t like how close the two were. Doctor Lecter almost never spoke about himself in his and Franklyn’s sessions, which left the patient guessing and deducing the other’s likes and trying to arrange chance meetings to get to know him outside the office.  
  
It was clear that the doctor had indeed told the agent about his extracurricular activities, which implied a certain level of trust in their relationship. In addition to that, his chance meeting with Will in the waiting room was telling of a more casual connection between the two, one that was not restricted to appointment times.  
  
It was what Franklyn had always wanted with Doctor Lecter and, although in the light of recent events he wasn’t sure if he wanted the same as he used to, it still seemed somewhat confusing and unfair.  
  
He had no desire to ever see a dead body as he flittered around the edges of the crime scene. He circled and craned his neck to see what was happening, yet he deliberately tried to avoid seeing what was within.  
  
Fourteen and a half minutes after Franklyn had arrived Graham broke off from the others and stalked away to pass under a section of the police tape. He headed towards a beaten-up car which he collapsed against before he ran his hands across his face as if trying to scrub something away.  
  
Franklyn hesitated, as he did not want to provoke someone who was disturbed and could lash out, as Graham definitely seemed capable of.  
  
If he approached the agent about Doctor Lecter’s behaviour then he might think that he was an accomplice and turn both of them into the police.  
  
The thought made Franklyn stop his movement for a moment. Even though he could never imagine himself being involved in killing anyone, having someone suppose he and Doctor Lecter could have a relationship like that made him swell a little with pride.  
  
Despite his hobbies, the doctor was still an incredible man and so far into the league Franklyn wanted to reach that he would be honoured at the assumption.  
  
He stepped forward.  
  
He couldn’t leave without knowing what Graham planed to do, even though he had no ideas how to broach the subject.  
  
“Hi,” he opened, flexing his hand once to stop its shaking before he offered it, trying to appear friendly and familiar. “I’m Franklyn Froideveaux, we met at Hannibal’s office.”  
  
The dark, curly head shot up and frowned at him. “What? Right. Y-yes. Yes, I remember that. Hello.”  
  
Franklyn’s hand dropped, untouched. “I was just walking past and I saw all the fuss. What’s happened?”  
  
“He enjoyed watching the flesh separate.” Graham said in a rush before he blinked his eyes up and back to the ground. “Sorry... There’s been a murder? This is the fourth victim. She hadn’t been here long, only overnight so it’s... _fine_. It’s fine.”  
  
“That’s good thing?” Franklyn tilted his head, trying to catch Graham’s eye.  
  
“Yeah.” He ran his hands over his face again, “yeah. Look,” he resurfaced, “it was... I don’t know you, and I’m... not feeling like myself right now, and I know this sounds rude, but I really need to be alone now.”  
  
Franklyn watched Graham walk away.  
  
He didn’t know what to make of the encounter. He hadn’t been able to determine anything from the aborted conversation, but it did seem that Graham hadn’t panicked and gone to his bosses if they were so preoccupied with a dead woman rather than the eviscerated man in a bus yard.  
  
There was clearly something plaguing the other’s mind, so perhaps he was still ruminating on the decision.  
  
Briefly, Franklyn wondered about taking Graham out. He wouldn’t be able to do it himself, and Tobias wouldn’t because his desires were only fantasies and Franklyn couldn’t ask him to do that, but Doctor Lecter may be interested in protecting his freedom.  
  
If he was to suggest it, and Franklyn knew the doctor would pick up on any subtleties he would venture, then there was always the risk that he could be swept up in the doctor’s wake and also be silenced.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
A thick hand landed on Franklyn’s shoulder, and he instinctively flinched away from it as he spun.  
  
There was a large, official looking man behind him, frowning with his strong face and giving off an animal air of alpha superiority.  
  
“Who are you and what business do you have with Will?”  
  
“I-I’m Franklyn... I’m a patient of Doctor Lecter’s. I recognized him and wanted to know what was going on,”  
he gestured across the crime scene, “I was just curious, that’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it.”  
  
The bigger man glared slightly as he frowned and seemed to look straight through Franklyn.  
  
“Stay away from Will Graham. I have all confidence in Doctor Lecter’s ability, and I don’t mean to offend you,” He looked back over to where Graham had walked away, “but Will’s got enough people in his head without someone who’s ‘just curious’ about a slaughtered girl. Do we understand each other?”  
  
Franklyn nodded.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Good afternoon. Please come in.”  
  
Franklyn had nervously sat in the waiting room, surprised that Doctor Lecter seemed to be carrying on with his life as if nothing had happened.  
  
It was definitely a kind of composure Franklyn could never manage. Although he was now seeing the doctor in a new and truer light it was hard to perceive anything beyond the perfectly sophisticated being that perched comfortably in the opposite chair.  
  
“How have you been?”  
  
“Fine. Good, even.” He wrung his hands, “I had tea at Tobias’s the other day. We... had a good talk. I don’t think he’s ever opened up like that before. It was good.”  
  
“I am pleased to hear it. I know it has always been a point of contention that you give yourself freely to him, but not he to you.”  
  
“Yes. It was surprising.”  
  
Franklyn looked down at his hands, which were moving against each other, trying to push the tension out of his palms. It was an obvious tell, he knew, so he made a conscious effort to stop and instead wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.  
  
“Something troubles you.”  
  
He looked up at his doctor. “I didn’t know really how to take it. He opened up in a way that was almost terrifying.”  
  
“What did he speak of?”  
  
“I shouldn’t say.” Franklyn frowned, trying to get a greater grasp on Doctor Lecter’s reactions, and how much he could say. “They’re not exactly my secrets to tell.”  
  
The psychiatrist inclined his head slightly. “Indeed, but this is a confidential consultation, is it not? If you wish to speak of what Tobias has discussed with you, then you may do so.”  
  
Franklyn shook his head and sat us straighter. “No. I’m his friend and I would never tell anyone his secrets.” He said, pointedly. “If a friend, any friend, even someone who doesn’t know he’s my friend, chooses to confide in me then I will honour their decision to do so.  
  
“If, for example, _you_ wanted to tell me something about yourself, I would never speak of it beyond this office.”  
  
Doctor Lecter closed the book he occasionally wrote in and simply observed Franklyn for a moment before he spoke.  
  
“Special Agent Jack Crawford of the F.B.I called me this morning. It was in regards to a patient of mine appearing at a crime scene. I assured him that you had no connection to the murder, but must have merely be passing by.  
  
“This is about Will Graham, yes? You’ve seen the informality of his and my relationship and crave the same. You went there yesterday in order to see Will and to try and connect with him, to cultivate a relationship with me by proxy.”  
  
Shaking his head, Franklyn looked down at the carpet for a moment. “You have confided in Mr. Graham, I’m sure. I just wanted you to know that you, I mean, if you wanted to, you could confide in me too.”  
  
The doctor smile tightly. “Thank you, Franklyn. I shall keep that in mind.”  
  
Franklyn sighed, knowing the doctor hadn’t heard him properly.  
  
“If,” he restarted, trying not to sound too exasperated, “if you chose to entrust certain things about you to Mr. Graham, then I’m sure you were doing what you thought best. You’ve probably been a psychiatrist long enough to be a good judge of character in that regards.”  
  
He was surprised when he said it. There was an element of belief in his statement that he hadn’t known was there.  
  
Franklyn didn’t trust Graham, but he trusted Doctor Lecter and his judgement.  
  
He was a good friend to Doctor Lecter, even if the other didn’t realize it. He would keep his secret and respect his decision and choice of friends. If something ever happened to the doctor, whether he was accidentally discovered or turned in, his loyalty could be shown.  
  
So he would keep his mouth shut, and perhaps Graham would prove to be just a good a friend to Doctor Lecter as Franklyn was.  
  
Either way, Franklyn planned to remain at the doctor’s side, keeping the horrible secret close and continuing to help Doctor Lecter see just how good a friend he could be.  
  
“Thank you, Franklyn.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Franklyn's interactions with Hannibal. Will finding out. Franklyn being a creeper about Hannibal's friendship with Will.


End file.
